


falling sun

by demistories



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Sunsets, Talking, meowraculouschatnoirzine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 21:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11170050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demistories/pseuds/demistories
Summary: Chloé squints into the growing darkness as the slightly darker thing starts moving closer. It takes her an almost embarrassingly long time to realize it’s not just a thing, it’s Chat Noir.Strange for him to be out, he doesn’t usually patrol on Thursdays, and there haven’t been any sounds of akuma.





	falling sun

**Author's Note:**

> hey whats up! this was written for the meowraculouschatnoirzine, which you can [download now](https://meowraculouschatnoirzine.tumblr.com/post/161696544917/download-the-chat-noir-zine) for pay what you can!!!! all profits will go to charity~
> 
> back with a classic adrien (or chat in this case) and chloe friendship fic. its been a bit since ive written one of these and honestly? missed it
> 
> enjoy~

Chloé decides to spend the night on her balcony. Not the whole night, that’d be ridiculous, she could never sleep with the sounds of the city so loud, but just a few hours. She actually watches the sunset for once, which is nice and pretty and probably emotionally moving or something, and pretends to do a few homework problems. She told herself she’d start being better about that.

After a while, she finds herself staring off to the horizon, the skyline of the city permanently burned into her memory. She blinks in surprise when something on that horizon starts moving.

Chloé squints into the growing darkness as the slightly darker thing starts moving closer. It takes her an almost embarrassingly long time to realize it’s not just a thing, it’s Chat Noir.

Strange for him to be out, he doesn’t usually patrol on Thursdays, and there haven’t been any sounds of akuma.

She calls out to him when he’s close enough that he'll hear her with his freaky cat ears. “Hey! Noir!”

Chat pauses and then leaps a few rooftops closer to her. He hesitates before making the final leap to her balcony. “Can I help you with something?” he asks, crouching on the railing.

Chloé tilts her head. “What are you doing?”

Chat narrows his eyes. “…patrol?”

“You never patrol on Thursdays,” she says with a flip of her hair. “As Ladybug’s biggest fan, I would know.”

Chat rolls his eyes and Chloé pretends not to notice.

“I wanted to,” he says. “There’s no law against taking an extra patrol.”

Ladybug might say otherwise. In the past few weeks, Ladybug has been a lot harsher about the other heroes taking patrols. Chloé assumes it’s because there’s been so many akuma attacks lately, but it’s still annoying. Chloé just purses her lips instead of commenting.

“Besides,” Chat continues. “Who wouldn’t want to see the hero of Paris during the most romantic time of night?”

Chloé raises her eyebrows. “Ladybug is out?”

He sits down on the railing. “Wow. First of all, rude. Second of all, gay.”

She shrugs. “Two things I’m known for.”

Chat snorts. “Fair enough. Would you rather watch this beautiful sunset with Ladybug?” He gestures to the sky behind him.

Chloé stares at the setting sun for a long moment before she shakes her head. “I’m good.”

He blinks in surprise. “Okay, that…was not what I was expecting.”

She smirks. “I live to be unpredictable.”

Chat stretches his arms to the sky. “Why are you out? I never see you out.”

“Maybe I thought _I_ would grace the city with my presence. You aren’t the only loved one around here.” A smile pulls at the corner of her lips. “You and I are more alike than you think.”

“Blond and attention seeking?” Chat jokes.

Chloé mimes shoving him off the railing. “No, famous, sought after, and beautiful.”

“Aww you think I’m pretty?” Chat asks, batting his eyes.

“Duh.” Chloé rolls her eyes. “I only talk to pretty people,” she says sarcastically.

Chat scoffs.

“You’re very pretty,” she says seriously. “I don’t joke about beauty.”

He stares at her for a long moment, with large, unblinking green eyes. She always forgets how captivating his gaze is. “I know you don’t,” he says softly.

For some reason, she has a strong feeling like they’ve done this before.

Chloé swallows and looks away. “You sure you just wanted to take an extra patrol tonight?” They rarely take extra patrols, because it means patrolling alone. Patrolling alone is always dull. There’s nothing to do other than run around and listen to your own thoughts, it’s too late at night for civilians to be out and interested in interacting.

It’s another thing entirely when you _want_ to be alone with your thoughts.

There’s nothing quite like sitting atop Notre Dame and watching the city’s lights twinkle below you as you stew in your own thoughts and let them swallow you and eat you whole. It’s strangely calming and healing.

Not that Chloé would know.

Chat looks out to the skyline. “I was having a bad night,” he murmurs. He rubs his fingers along the edge of his mask where it meets the skin. Chloé wonders if he ever has the strong urge to rip it off like she sometimes does.

Chloé rests her chin in her hand and follows his gaze to the horizon. She’s no good at comforting others. If anything, _she’s_ always the one being comforted. She’s trying to get better but— her immediate plan for helping Chat is not one Ladybug would approve of.

And both her and Chat strive for Ladybug’s approval too much for that.

“Did you know I ran away once?” Chat says suddenly.

Chloé looks up in surprise. “You mean you aren’t running away right now?”

“Ha ha very funny.” Chat tugs on one of his ears. “I was nine. I was mad at my dad. I filled a bag with comic books, my Nintendo DS, and candy, and climbed out of my window using a sheet rope.”

She frowns. She’s heard a similar story before. It must not be that uncommon for kids to run away when they’re mad. “I ‘ran away’ because my parents were getting a divorce,” Chloé says when it doesn’t seem like Chat’s going to continue. “I took my blanket and wrote a really dramatic note that I sealed with wax and left with a rose I stole from one of the vases in the lobby.”

“Of course you did,” Chat mutters.

Chloé sticks her tongue out at him. “I walked to my friend’s house. I was so mad that no one came for me until the next day, and then my parents weren’t even that worried. It turns out my friend’s mom called my dad and told him where I was.” Then Chloé had been mad at Mrs. Agreste, but at least getting away from her parents for a while had helped.

Chat rests his chin on his knees. “I didn’t go to anyone. I sort of just…walked around the city.”

“Sounds like it’d be nice,” Chloé murmurs. “If, you know, you weren’t upset. And also nine.”

Chat snorts. “True. It turned out okay in the end. A really nice woman who owned a bakery gave me a free pastry and called my mom for me. My mom called my dad and yelled at him.”

Chloé raises her eyebrows. “Wow.”

He hums. “She was away on a business trip. I just remember…” He shakes his head. “It just all seems kind of pointless sometimes, doesn’t it?”

Chloé starts at the sudden subject change. Or maybe not so sudden. It’s not like she knows anything about Chat’s life. They don’t exactly talk, even while she’s transformed. This, the whole heart to heart gushy emotions thing, is very new. “What seems pointless?” she asks. “If you start quoting Shakespeare at me, I’m pushing you off my balcony.”

He mulls it over for a moment before saying, “I’m not really sure.”

She sighs and rests her arms on the railing. “Helpful.”

Chat glares at her. “Very comforting.”

“Do I seem like a comforting and caring person to you?” she asks, returning his glare.

Chat’s expression softens. “I think you could be,” he muses. “If you wanted to be.”

Chloé narrows her eyes and looks away.

“Can I get deep?” he asks.

“Does it matter if I say no?”

“Isn’t everyone capable of kindness?” Chat continues, barely having paused to let her slip in her snarky response. Which Chloé had been expecting. She knows him too well at this point to expect anything less. “Don’t all human beings have the ability to be good?”

Chloé resists the urge to scoff. Chat is working through something, right now is not the time to be bitter and cynical. Or at least, it shouldn’t be. Despite her best efforts, “My father works in politics” slips out.

“That doesn’t make him a bad person,” Chat counters. “He still cares about you. At least a little bit,” he amends when Chloé makes a face. “He’d tear down half of Paris to keep you safe.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t need him to,” she mutters. “Maybe there are other ways he could show me he cares that would mean more to me.”

Chat’s ears droop. “I know what you mean,” he murmurs softly. “My dad doesn’t get it either.”

Chloé remembers that the women in the bakery called Chat’s _mom_ , who was away and working, and not Chat’s father. Who was still in Paris and should’ve been taking care of his son. She clenches her fist. “Adults never do.”

“And that is the line of thinking that lead to the Bubbler,” Chat says with forced enthusiasm.

Chloé tries not to smile.

Chat swishes his tail. “We should probably be trying to learn from history or something like that.”

She shrugs. “Have people ever done that? I mean, we keep having wars and stuff. Bad things keep happening. History repeats itself and all that garbage.”

“Is it bad that I wish for once we’d just learn?”

Chloé furrows her eyebrows. “Chat Noir are you trying to change all of mankind?” She shifts her weight. “Because I have news for you.”

Chat sighs. “I don’t know. I just wish people were better.”

“Not happening,” she says flatly.

“I think you underestimate people,” Chat says. “I think people are capable of more than you think.” He gives her a once over. “I think _you’re_ capable of more than you think.”

Chloé looks away, cheeks hot. “ _I_ think you’re being dramatic.” She bites back the pun on the tip of her tongue.

Chat laughs. It’s a little bitter and hollow. “Have you never met me? I’m always dramatic.”

“You already get to change the world,” she points out. “You’ve got the whole defeating Hawk Moth thing going for you. That’s more than most of us get.”

“Defeating him isn’t the same as changing him,” Chat says. And Chloé thinks they might finally be circling toward what’s actually wrong tonight. “We can lock him up and take away his power, but how do we change how he thinks? How do we get rid of his hunger for power? His willingness to manipulate people to get what he wants?”

Chloé stares at him. “Okay, you weren’t kidding about getting deep.”

“Saving people is important,” Chat continues. “Helping people is important. Stopping Hawk Moth is important. But is it selfish to want to make one person reevaluate their life and life choices?”

“I don’t think so,” Chloé says softly.

His tail swishes slowly as he stares out at the sunset. “I want to do that.”

Chloé casts her eyes to the ground. _You already have_.

—«·»—

It hasn’t even been five minutes since Chat left her balcony and Chloé is already restless. It’s like there’s something inside her that’s itching to go, to make sure that he’s _really_ okay.

If there’s one thing she’s learned about half of Paris’ Dynamic Duo, it’s that Chat Noir is very good at acting if he wants to be.

Chloé paces for a few more minutes on her balcony before she tosses her homework into her bag — she got half the problems done and that _has_ to count for something — and transforms. She’s never going to sleep if she doesn’t.

It doesn’t take her too long to find him. She’s noticed that they all have their spots; private little places they each like to go when they have something on their minds. Hers in particular is a nice little alcove that overlooks a garden that’s currently in bloom.

Chat’s is near the top of the Eiffel Tower.

She hovers by him for a moment until he shifts to the side, giving her space to sit down next to him.

“What’s up QB?” he asks, not moving his eyes from the building he’s staring at. Probably not staring at. Probably looking past into nothing.

Bee rolls her eyes. “Are you sure you aren’t American?”

He turns to her with twinkling eyes— a good sign. “ _Pawsitive_.”

She groans. “I walked right into that.”

“You really did,” Chat says with a laugh. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I was bored,” Bee says with a shrug, pulling a knee up to her chest. “I saw you were out. I decided to join you. What about you? What’s up?”

Chat leans forward and looks down. She still doesn’t know how he does that without gripping the metal edge. He’s so much more sure of his abilities and limits than she is and she’s more than a little jealous. “Us, apparently.”

Bee snorts.

Chat leans back with a smile. “A little of this, a little of that,” he says, motioning with his hand. “Overall, a little of everything.”

“Too much of everything?” she asks coolly, keeping eye contact.

Chat looks away. “I don’t know.” Bee hums. “I don’t know,” he goes on, “it’s just nice up here, isn’t it? Above everything? Kind of like you have nothing you have to worry about.”

She watches him as he closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

“You can sit up here and watch the world turn below you. And know that you’re watching out for everyone. And sometimes, that’s all you need.”


End file.
